


Terrible Ideas

by Unironicdokis



Series: In Every Scenario [3]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-03
Updated: 2016-03-03
Packaged: 2018-05-24 12:02:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6153056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unironicdokis/pseuds/Unironicdokis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas knew he wasn’t the exactly the most welcome member at Alexander Hamilton’s party, and making out on the couch with Alex’s ex boyfriend, James Madison, probably wasn’t going to help his case.</p><p>Of course, pissing off Hamilton wasn’t exactly a strong incentive for him to stop either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Terrible Ideas

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote a piece called "Changing My Major" not to long ago from James' point of view, so I wanted to give Thomas a shot. Stylistically, I feel like this is written pretty differently, but its a sort-of-sequel-not-really. It's more like an Alternate Universe Scenario #2 headcanon for how James and Thomas end up together. This might take place during a college AU. I'm not quite sure.
> 
> I listened to "Married" by Emily Kinney while writing this. It's a very cute song. Guess where this fic is headed based on that title.

Thomas knew he wasn’t the exactly the most welcome member at Alexander Hamilton’s party, and making out on the couch with Alex’s ex boyfriend, James Madison, probably wasn’t going to help his case.

Of course, pissing off Hamilton wasn’t exactly a strong incentive for him to stop either.

But Thomas wasn’t thinking about that. Actually, Thomas wasn’t thinking much of anything; he couldn’t—not while sitting in James’ lap, the delicious heat of their mouths pressed together, good enough to make him forget where he is. He was too buzzed to give a damn about anything: not the disgruntled whispers from the people nearby, nor Angelica’s snickers from just a few feet away, nor the staring.

So much staring.

It didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered were James’ hands—so large, so surprisingly strong—exploring him, wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer, tangling in his hair, making him feel adored and protected and _right_.

“James."

Thomas sighed the name into James' mouth, cupping his face in his hands, tracing his thumb against James' cheek. _Was James enjoying this just as much as he was?_   The question ebbed at the back of his mind, but his nerves were set a little bit more at ease as he felt James’ smile against his lips, his faint laughter low in Thomas’ ear as it tickled at his skin, driving him wild.

There was still the taste of alcohol on their tongues accompanied by the lingering smell. Thomas’ heart was hammering in his chest—he was almost certain it must have been loud enough for James to hear—his face was burning, his stomach in knots, skin tingling slightly where they touched. He felt juvenile, euphoric, just a little bit tipsy, and absolutely, positively more than just a little bit in love.

Thomas grabbed James by his sweater, pulling him in for another kiss. Their teeth mashed together painfully, and James reflexively pulled away from his friend. “Ouch,” he muttered.

“Sorry! S-sorry, James, I didn’t—“ stuttered Thomas in response, eyes wide.

The illusion was ruined, and it was all his fault.

To his surprise, James just laughed. It was completely disarming, his warm eyes, his soft chuckle as he pulled Thomas in for yet another kiss.

“James,” he repeated again on the other man’s lips before he could help himself.

"Yes, Thomas?"

This was something he'd wanted for so long. Hell, it was entirely possible this was something they'd both wanted for so long. They didn’t have to leave. They could stay like this forever. Thomas was content with that. James would be, too, right? It was so good, so worth it...

“I love you,” he whispered breathlessly between kisses, before he could take the words back—before he could regret them, before it feels like the bottom is falling out of his stomach, before the anxiety could settle in, before the weight on his chest, the ringing in his ears, the feeling that time was slowing down and speeding up at the exact same time.

James—his best friend—in that moment had his heart in his hands (and it was a vulnerable thing that Thomas had given to him freely), and all Thomas could do was wait. Wait, and continue to kiss him all over like a fool.

He expected James to back away, maybe stop what he’s doing, maybe tense up; Thomas’ whole being is prepared for the inevitable reaction, steeling himself for the rejection. Instead it didn't come.

In fact, there was hardly a break in their movements at all. Except for the low words in James managed between their gasps, just loud enough for Thomas to hear.

“ _Marry me_.”

Now, if Thomas had proposed this to James as another one of his zany ideas, he never in a million years would have predicted that James would be wild enough, would be spontaneous enough, brave enough, stupid enough, in love with his best friend enough to say yes. And yet here he was. It wasn’t Thomas’ idea but James’.

An equally terrible idea to accompany his own—the minute he decided to sit himself in James' lap and pull him into a drunken kiss.

There was no way it could have been a good idea—no plan, both of them drunk off their asses (or at the very least tipsy enough to have their judgement impaired), nobody that even liked them at this party. But anything out of James’ mouth always sounded like a brilliant idea to Thomas, so of course his brain was telling him to run with it.

Now, he normally loved drunk Thomas (because Thomas had resigned himself to the fact long ago that he was at heart a narcissist and essentially loved himself perhaps more than he should—definitely more than he should) but didn’t trust him in the way he trusted sober Thomas; he had a tendency to do really stupid things that he ended up regretting later, but this time—this time he had a feeling in his gut to trust himself and just go, go and don’t look back.

Besides, he wanted to do something stupid. Granted, he was already doing something pretty stupid, but Thomas wanted to do something _piss-off-both-their-parents-and-probably-all-their-friends_ stupid.

Thomas practically giggled with delight at James words. His reply was a blur, barely coherent because he was too busy peppering James' face with kisses, trying to convey his adoration for his friend. He hoped the message was translated across to his friend, sloppy as it was. There might’ve been a “yes" in between the incoherent babbling.

No, there definitely was a “yes”.

It hadn’t been a question, but he said yes anyways.

Leaving the vicinity was equally a blur. Thomas just remembered grabbing James by the hand like a cliche, and Angelica—to Thomas’ surprise—taking notice that they’ve disappeared from their spot on the couch.

“Where are you going?” asked Angie to Thomas, one eyebrow raised in suspicion.

“Getting married,” answered Thomas brusquely, too giddy to be brought down from his high; he was smiling so hard his cheeks hurt. James was smiling, too, slightly apologetically at Angie as they passed her by, but Thomas privately hoped that James was just as elated as he himself felt.

Her response surprised him. “Finally!”

It shouldn’t have been that surprising. Thomas told Angelica everything—everything he didn’t tell James anyways. And Angelica—sarcastic, witty Angelica who is never satisfied and never puts up with any of his shit—actually looked happy for him, was actually beaming for a change instead of rolling her eyes, probably a little too drunk as well to really muster up an argument with him or try to rationalize like usual. Although she still sort of looked like she would hit him over the head if she could because she looked like she wanted to say more than just “finally!” The look she was giving him was more like finally, _it’s about time after pining for so long and having to put up with your whining!_

Instead she finished it with, “Finally! Then I’m going to be your maid of honor.” It was a command, not an inquiry which was something much more typically Angelica, and Thomas laughed because he knew that he wouldn’t have been able to argue with her even if he wanted.

"Can I be the best man?” asked Peggy, who was nearby and must have overheard the conversation, but before Thomas could even reply James beat him to it, and to his surprise beat him to it with an enthusiastic yes—surprising because he regarded James as a pretty private person, and neither of them were particularly close with Margarita Schuyler.

So they had each other, the moon and two thirds of the Schuyler sisters as their witnesses, and New York, the greatest city in the world. They definitely were doing this.

—

“So, where to?” asked James with a wide smile as the two of them stood under the light of the stars and the skyscrapers. Thomas had an equally wide smile; in fact, part of him worried that if he didn’t stop his face would eventually just get stuck, but most of him just didn’t care because it was worth it, James was worth it.

James pulls Thomas into a sweet kiss which Thomas reciprocated with a smile still on his lips. “My husband,” added James when they pulled apart.

 _My husband._ The words sent a thrill down Thomas’ spine.

They were holding hands while pretending at playing a married couple, only it wasn’t pretend. The full weight of the decision would hit them in the morning. It was completely juvenile and irresponsible yet also way beyond what they were even remotely prepared for.

“This is ridiculous,” murmured James, their faces just inches away, but Thomas could see he was still smiling as he gave Thomas a soft peck on the lips.

Thomas just shushed him. “Your idea,” he reminded James.

“Right. So what should we do, then? Just go back?”

“To the party?”

James nodded.

Thomas shook his head.

“You sure? We can make out on the couch some more. I bet Alexander would be really pissed.” There was a mischievous glint in James’ eye, a surprising and rare sight.

Thomas considered it for a moment before shaking his head once more. “As great as that sounds, I don’t think so. Let’s go home.”

James nodded, taking Thomas’ hand in his. “Home. Right. So… My place or yours?"

**Author's Note:**

> This is so sappy.


End file.
